


One Sunday to the Next

by jtjenna (pornographicpenguin)



Category: Ouran High School Host Club - All Media Types
Genre: College, F/M, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Threesome - F/M/M, tamaki never really grows up, would this be considered polyamory? ??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-29
Updated: 2014-09-29
Packaged: 2018-02-19 05:25:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2376386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pornographicpenguin/pseuds/jtjenna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haruhi really wishes that her newly discovered love of lazy Sunday mornings would be respected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Sunday to the Next

Haruhi blinks her eyes open, the midday sunlight filtering in through the window.

She comes to full awareness slowly, her lids only half-raised as she gazes lazily at the benevolent yellow slivers of the sun she can make out through the slats of the blinds. It's a long few minutes before she realizes just how late it is, when she glances over Kaoru's shoulder at the angry red and black glare of the alarm clock on her bedside table.

Sluggishly, she pushes herself up on her elbows, peering in the other direction at Hikaru, shirtless, an arm tossed haphazardly over his eyes, ostensibly to block the sunlight from disturbing him. Haruhi doesn't normally sleep in this late. Usually she's out of bed by ten at the latest, making breakfast for herself (or the three of them, or sometimes the two) while she rifles through her notes or reads a textbook. And, granted, she'd probably let the eggs burn in the process. Then Hikaru and Kaoru would come wandering out of the bedroom with sleep crusting their eyes, and Hikaru would tell her that the eggs sucked, and Kaoru would protest, but Haruhi would know that he was thinking the exact same thing.

That doesn't happen this morning, though. It's Sunday.

She never understood that saying about 'lazy Sunday mornings' until she met these two. They could probably beat out cats in sheer lethargy and languor.

The sun illuminates the harsh bend of Hikaru's elbow with a gentle, warming touch. Haruhi has a paper due at midnight that same day. She should probably work on it.

Haruhi sighs, putting a little more weight on the heels of her palms.

A low, groaning noise emerges from the mess of boy limbs and ginger hair to her right. Hikaru. "Haruhi?" he asks, his voice scratchy from the disuse of sleep.

"Oh, sorry," she whispers. "Did I wake you up?"

She can see it as his Adam's apple bobs in his throat under the force of swallow. "No," he says, his voice a little clearer. "The sun," he mumbles, tossing in the opposite direction. He groans again when he realizes that the direction in which he turned was, indeed, the way from which the sunlight was shining in.

"You should probably be getting up anyways," she says. "It's after noon."

She receives no response.

From her other side, Kaoru shifts and tosses, throwing an arm over Haruhi's lap and burying his face in her hip. "Yeah, Hikaru, get up," he mumbles into the fabric of her nightgown.

"You first," Hikaru mumbles, rolling a pillow up over his face.

Haruhi gently attempts to disentangle herself from Kaoru, but his long limbs are insistent in her hands. "Come on, Haruhi, stay."

"Yeah," Hikaru says, taking the chance to roll onto her as well. "Stay a while."

She sighs. "I have a paper to write."

"Stay," Hikaru whines, tugging her down into the mattress. Haruhi can't quite find it within herself to say no.

* * *

"You more awake now?"

"I was perfectly awake before," Haruhi mumbles over the rim of a mug, the overpowering odor of cheap coffee filling her nostrils. She has a book laid out on the table in front of her, skimming one paragraph and then another, one paragraph and then another....

" _Ha-ru-hi._ " A hand waves over the text. "Pay attention to us."

She rolls her eyes. "The two of you act like children. You're nearly twenty already."

Kaoru smiles big and wide. "We've still got the claim to teenagerdom for a few more weeks, Haruhi."

Narrowing her eyes, she grumbles yet again, "Doesn't give you an excuse to act like dumbasses."

Hikaru places a hand on his chest, fingers curved and parted in a way reminiscent of a princess in a B-list movie, his mouth open into a small 'o' of offense. For a moment Haruhi is struck with a strong sense of _deja-vu_ , remembering their days at the host club.

He's about to say something when she cuts him off: "Oh yeah!" She snaps her fingers. "Tamaki-sempai says he'll be visiting next weekend."

Kaoru snickers. "Why do you still call him sempai? You don't even go to the same school."

Haruhi shrugs. "Habit, I guess."

Hikaru hums in acknowledgement. His hand moves up to his cheek, his fingers still parted and arched like he does when he's performing -- which is less often now than it used to be, but still fairly frequent. "But, if the Prince's going to be in town..." he trails off.

A harsh smile spreads across Kaoru's lips. "That's right, we could..."

"Exactly."

The both of them gaze at each other from across the table, grinning like Cheshire cats. Haruhi, in the middle of chewing on a piece of toast, says, "What?"

"Oh, nothing!" Kaoru says, that distinct too-sweet undertone in his voice that indicates to her he is in no way, shape, or form telling the truth.

"Yeah, Haruhi, go back to your textbook," Hikaru says, waving a dismissive hand at her. Honestly, these two --  _children_.

It doesn't take too long for the wires in her brain to connect -- or, really, she supposes, electric currents being sent down axons, sparking across the synapse and absorbed by the dendrites of the next neuron, but --

"He's going to find out sometime," she says.

"Yeah," Hikaru says. "But it's fun to screw with him while he doesn't know."

"He's so jealous," Kaoru says, nudging the spoon around the rim of his cup of tea.  "And it'll probably only get better once he does find out." Kaoru grins widely, something flashing in his eyes that Haruhi doesn't see too often anymore.

She sighs. "If he asks, I'm just going to tell him." The bread gnashes between her molars. It's got the dark, dry taste of whole grain and desperately needs more butter.

Hikaru pouts. "Aw, don't ruin all our fun, Haruhi."

She rolls her eyes at him, and attempts to hide her smile behind the pages of her textbook.

* * *

The front door crashes violently open.

"Hey, watch it!" Haruhi shouts in the direction of the front of her apartment. It's probably Hikaru -- he's done that exact thing for essentially as long as she's lived here, but it's usually born of carelessness and a lack of respect for the material possessions of others rather than any kind of legitimate anger.

But, upon hearing Hikaru's response -- a grumpy, heedless, "Yeah, yeah," slung up from the back of the throat, lacking any manner of finesse whatsoever -- she realizes that, this time, that is indeed not the case.

She pops her head out of the kitchen. "What's wrong?"

Hikaru is standing in the middle of her living room, glaring in the general direction of the window. "Nothing," he says, and then promptly proceeds to send the toes of his foot careening into the body of her couch.

"If you're not going to tell me, could you at least not take it out on my furniture?" she grumbles.

Hikaru mutters, "Sorry," before collapsing onto the ugly rust-red upholstery. He does not sound in the least like he means it.

"Okay, whatever," she says, letting go of a bit of her irritation. "Where's Kaoru?"

"With Tamaki." Hikaru's expression darkens a few shades, his arms crossed vehemently over his chest.

Haruhi plops down on the couch right next to him. "Okay, really, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," he says flatly, staring passive-aggressively at the ceiling.

"Well obviously it's not nothing," she says. "Clearly something's --"

"Do you want to go out to dinner?"

Haruhi blinks. "I already started making --"

"It's ramen," he says, running an irritated hand through his hair. "I highly doubt the loss of the thirty cents is going to dent your budget." He stops, stretching a plastic smile across his lips in the pause between sentences. "Come on, it's my treat."

"It's the principle of the matter," she says. "Not wasting food. And stop trying to deflect, it's -- "

"Your pot's boiling over."

She blinks. "Huh?" Hikaru points, and it takes her a solid second to turn around and notice that her pot, is, indeed, boiling over. "Shit!"

"Guess you'll have to let me take you out now," Hikaru says as she rushes over to the stove, flicking off the burner and scrambling to clean up the water before it sinks into the more delicate parts of the very expensive appliance.

In the other room, Hikaru has his knees buried in the couch and his arms draped across the back to peer at her with a triumphant, self-satisfied grin. "They're noodles, they're still fine," she says.

"Come on, please?" he asks, a sad, pathetic, and very manipulative expression sculpted over his features as he stands up, moving across the room to stand behind her. She stares down at the mess of the stove as he places his hands on her hips, squeezing lightly, and his chest comes into full contact with her back. "Please, Haruhi?"

"That's not going to work on me," she says, rolling her eyes.

"But," he says, the lilt of his voice giving the impression that he is much too pleased with himself, "you'll come anyway, right?"

She's tempted to turn him down solely because of that statement, but in reality she sighs, "Yeah. I'll go." It briefly occurs to her that she wouldn't have gone along with such shenanigans so easily just a few years ago. She's grown rather lax, been worn down.

Or maybe it's not quite that -- when she was in high school she would have gone along with something like this just as easily. She would have just complained more.

"On one condition."

Hikaru makes an inquisitive noise, low and gentle and a hairsbreadth away from her ear. It sends a shiver down her spine -- the whole thing irks her a bit, because -- what had she just said about this not working on her?

"You have to tell me what happened."

"Okay," he says, unworried, not nearly as opposed to the idea as she would have expected. Which means either that he thinks he can get out of it, or planned this chain of events all along. She contemplates this as she pours the remnants of her sad, overcooked noodles down the garbage disposal, the steam rising up and engulfing her face.  She can feel her pores expand for a second before the cloud clears.

"What you're wearing should be fine," he says.

She glances down at herself -- what she's wearing is an outfit she likes quite a lot, actually, a set of simple pants and a button-down. It's from some kind of designer, Haruhi thinks, but she's not sure. The twins gave it to her for her birthday a few years ago. It's one of her favorites just because it's acceptable in most formal and informal settings, toeing the line between each. It was a thoughtful gift.

"Yeah, okay," she says, dusting off her pants as Hikaru pulls out his cell. No doubt to call a personal driver -- which had still continued to be weird, even after years of that behavior during her years at Ouran, and the occasional incident with her classmates. It was probably even weirder now, she thought, given the juxtaposition to how people conduct themselves in everyday life. "Where are we going?" she asks when he snaps the phone closed.

He grins at her. "It's a surprise."

* * *

"I don't know, I -- I just started thinking," Hikaru says, twirling the straw around the rim of his glass of water. It's something that Kaoru does, as well. "About -- the three of us."

Haruhi blinks. "What about us?"

He sighs a sigh fraught with teenage angst he won't quite have a claim to in only a few weeks. "I mean -- we joke about it and everything, but we're never going to actually _tell_ Tamaki."

"You're not?" Haruhi asks.

"No," he says, nervously, spreading his elbows out over the table and kicking a foot over his side of the bench.

She tilts her head to the side, her bangs falling in front of her eyes. "Why not?"

"It's kind of weird," he says, using that same flat tone he had used earlier. He's good at it, really, using that particular quality to cover up his decided emotionalism. It's just really obvious to Haruhi. "That I -- that we -- " He swallows. "Kaoru's my brother."

Haruhi pauses. "Yeah, I can see how that might be interpreted as a little weird," she says. "But you also used to flirt with each other at the host club pretty much nonstop, so I don't really see how anybody could be truly scandalized."

"It's not the same thing," he says, his voice straining into a whiny and vaguely distressed timbre. "There's a difference between pretending and -- you know." He looks away. Haruhi rests her cheek on a closed fist, taking a sip of her wine.

"Does it really bother you that much?"

Hikaru shrugs. "Not really, I mean -- we've always been close," he says. "It doesn't really bother me that we both -- it's not like we're fucking or anything."

The candle at the end of the table flickers in the low lighting. "Well, that's good," she says. It hadn't skipped her notice that this was a decidedly romantic restaurant. "I don't think I'd really want to continue if you were really that ashamed of it."

Hikaru shakes his head. "No, we're not. Kaoru is fine with it too." He glances down at the table, "And I really shouldn't care about what the others will think, but -- "

"Tamaki-sempai's going to find out eventually," Haruhi interrupts. "And I'm pretty sure Kyoya already knows."

Hikaru pales. "What?"

She nods. "Yeah. I mean, he always seems to know what's going on with all of us, doesn't he?" Even when they only see him every few months, Haruhi thinks. It's kind of creepy, frankly, but not something she can really do anything about.

As if he had been thinking the exact same thoughts, Hikaru remarks, "Slimy bastard," with a little more venom that Haruhi would have expected.

"But they're all going to find out at some point," she says. "And I honestly don't think anyone's really going to care that much."

"Yeah," Hikaru agrees. "Probably not." Yet again, he sounds like he is a galaxy away from even remotely believing what he's saying. A silent moment passes before he says, "I guess we'll just have to see."

"It'll be fine," she says. She takes another sip of wine, watching Hikaru glare jealously at her from across the booth. Then it occurs to her: "Wait -- was that all that was upsetting you?"

He shrugs. "Yeah?"

"What made you think of all this in the first place, though?" She twirls a lock of her hair in between her fingers. It's getting longer.

Across the table, Hikaru makes a very displease and slightly constipated face. "Kaoru was all like, 'We should just tell him, Hikaru!' and I -- " he cuts himself off. "I didn't like it."

"So you ran away and kidnapped me so he couldn't find either of us."

Hikaru chuckles. "Basically."

"You should probably just tell him."

Hikaru rolls his eyes. "Yeah, I know."

"He's going to find out eventually."

"You already said that, I know!" Hikaru shouts, slamming his hand on the table. The couple at the table across from them glances over, their haughty noses turned up and their gazes disapproving.

"Calm down," Haruhi hisses, placing a hand over his. Her fingers are cold against his wrist. "Do you wanna tell him together?"

"Now?" Hikaru squeaks in a rather undignified fashion. "Like _right now?_ "

Haruhi sags, rather unimpressed. "I didn't say anything about right now, dumbass."

"Oh," Hikaru says.

"But now that you mention it -- "

"No," Hikaru interrupts. It's not a shout, but the word does echo loudly in the mostly-quiet restaurant.

Haruhi frowns, her eyebrows knitting together. "If we don't do it now, when are we going to do it? He's already in town."

"Why do we even have to tell him?" Hikaru hisses across the table. "It's our business!"

"Because if we don't tell him, someone else is probably going to!" Haruhi snaps.

Hikaru slouches back in the booth, his legs sprawled out on either side of Haruhi's under the table. "At least we'd be out of the blast zone."

"You know he'd probably fly halfway across the country anyways," she says.

Hikaru half-chuckles, half-sighs. "Yeah, probably."

"So we should just tell him," she says. "And even if he does throw a fit -- "

"He's going to throw a fit."

" -- it'll be three against one," she finishes. "We'll be able to take him, I promise."

Hikaru grunts noncommittally.

Haruhi exhales out through her nose, stifling a wave of irritation. "Come on, Hikaru, I need you to be in on this with me."

He gazes at her, his face unevenly lit in the low candlelight. His Adam's apple bobs in his throat like cork in water. "Yeah, okay." He clasps her hand in his so the both of them are now clasping hands over the table in a way Haruhi thinks might be vaguely reminiscent of cult activity. The couple in the booth across from them continues to shoot them odd, judging glances.

"Awesome," Haruhi says. "I'll call him."

"What?!"

* * *

"Why would you _leave us_ , Hikaru?" Tamaki whines very loudly as he leans into Hikaru's personal space.

"Would you quiet down?" Kaoru asks, crossing his arms over the wood of the table. "We are in a public place."

"But he just _left!_ " Tamaki continues, quickly escalating into theatrics. "Do you not like me, Hikaru?"

Hikaru shoots Haruhi a meaningful look as Tamaki latches himself onto Hikaru's right arm. Beside her, Kaoru laughs in a way that Haruhi finds strangely reminiscent of the wilted, drained look of boiled vegetables.

"Sempai, people are staring," Haruhi grumbles.

"Oh, sorry, sorry!" he says, waving congenially at the couple at the adjacent table. "I'm just so excited, I haven't seen any of you in so long!"

"Yeah," Hikaru says.

"About that -- " Kaoru says, continuing his twin's train of thought without so much as a blink.

"We'd really like to tell you something," Haruhi finishes.

Tamaki blinks, twirling a fork in his hands. He peers at Haruhi with attentive, curious eyes. Haruhi kind of understands Hikaru's unwillingness to tell him now, actually. The oncoming storm in his eyes is practically _visible_.

She realizes, with a mild sinking sensation, that they are not actually going to get to eat here.

"We're dating."

Tamaki smiles at her, dropping the fork to the table. "Oh, you and Hikaru? I mean, I always kind of suspected -- "

Before he can get any further along on that train, Hikaru interrupts with a rude, decidedly peeved, "No."

A moment passes, and he looks at Haruhi questioningly as he says, "You and...Kaoru?"

"Nope," Kaoru confirms.

Haruhi watches as Tamaki's expression contorts into blatant confusion. "You -- "

"The three of us," Haruhi clarifies.

"The three of you what?"

A very long, awkward pause settles over the table.

"Are dating," Kaoru says.

"The three of us are dating," Hikaru says.

"Oh?"

* * *

"I can't believe this!" Tamaki shouts at the unresponsive exterior of the restaurant. "I can't believe the two of you -- " he spins around to face them in a manner Haruhi thinks would be more at home on a lit stage with an adoring audience than the three of them and the disapproving employees of the establishment they had just been kicked out of, " -- would damage the innocence of poor, sweet little Haruhi with your -- "

"Sempai, shut up," Haruhi mumbles, tiredly pressing a palm to her forehead.

" -- incestuous debauchery!"

"Would you calm down?" Hikaru asks using a tone identical to the one Haruhi had just employed, a triplet of fingers pressed to his temple. "Also, do you have any idea how much money our 'incestuous debauchery' made you in the host club?"

Tamaki's face turns a shade of red not unlike that of a particularly ripe strawberry. "That's not the point, you hooligans; that was fake and this is -- you're polluting Haruhi with your dirty tactics and your -- "

"So much for thinking he'd matured," Haruhi grumbles to no one in particular just as Hikaru interrupts him.

"It's not like we're fucking!" he shouts, loudly enough that people from across the street glance in their direction. Haruhi can very clearly see the betrayed faces of the staff peering out at the four of them from the amber-tinted windows. "We're both just -- dating her."

"Um, maybe we should move this somewhere -- "

"What does that even mean!?" Tamaki shouts. There are now people who are stopping to stare at the four of them standing outside the fancy restaurant, shouting very loudly about their personal relationships.

"It's none of your business!" Hikaru shouts right back.

"You're the ones who decided to tell me in the first place!"

Haruhi mutters, "We are actually going to get arrested if you keep this up."

"Our sex lives aren't any of your business," Kaoru says, crossing his arms.

"I never asked you about your sex -- "

" _Shut up!_ "

Haruhi slams her foot on the ground, finally gathering the others' attention. "Sempai," she says, "we are dating. That is final. I don't care if you think it's fucked up, or whatever. It's happening, deal with it." She takes a long breath, grabbing Kaoru's hand, and then Hikaru's. "We decided to tell you because we'd rather you hear it from us than -- Kyoya. Or anyone else." She's starting to trip over her own words, the spit getting thick in her mouth.

An arm -- Kaoru's arm -- wraps around her shoulders, followed quickly by Hikaru's arm around her waist. Tamaki stares at them with a slack jaw, his lips parted in a little 'o'.

"I'm a grown woman," Haruhi says. "I don't need you to make my decisions for me."

Tamaki sniffs theatrically, a few melodramatic tears welling in his eyes. "My baby girl has finally grown up!" he wails, crashing into the neat formation the three of them had constructed with all the finesse of a delirious bull.

"Okay," Haruhi chokes out. "Sure," she says, patting Tamaki heftily on the back and attempting not to fall over and subsequently send both of them careening down the short flight of stairs directly behind her.

"But remember," he says, pulling away from her, clasping her shoulders with a firm grip, "if they ever do anything to hurt you, just tell me and I will have them -- "

"Yeah, yeah, boss, okay, whatever," the twins say in some combination, prying Tamaki's limbs off Haruhi with mirror unimpressed expressions.

"We promise we'll take good care of her," Hikaru says.

"And she'll take good care of us," Kaoru adds on, clasping Haruhi's hand gently in his. She smiles up at him, leaning into the line of his arm.

"Okay," Tamaki says. "Okay, I -- I think I understand."

Haruhi nods. "That's great." Something moves in the corner of her eye -- and, unsurprisingly, it just so happens to be the collective of employees and -- oh, customers too now -- peering through the window. As she watches, one of them pulls out a phone. "But we really, really need to get out of here." She points a nervous finger at the people behind the amber windows, judging and angry.

"Uh, yeah," Kaoru agrees.

"Let's skedaddle," Hikaru says, gripping Haruhi by the elbow and directing her down the stairs.

"No, no, I'm sure it will be fine if we just go explain to them -- " Tamaki starts.

"We're leaving!" Kaoru shouts back at Tamaki, still standing at the landing of the stairs leading up to the door. "We're leaving you here!"

"I am actually going to punch him in the face," Hikaru mumbles to the street in front of them.

"Oh, come on, you know you love him," Kaoru responds. Haruhi looks up at him just in time to see him wink at Hikaru, threading his arm through Haruhi's. Behind them, Tamaki scrambles down the steps, attracting much more attention than is probably necessary with such an action.

"Yeah, but I'd still punch him in the face." When a man they pass in the street shoots the three of them a pointedly disapproving look, Haruhi waves at him sheepishly. It does not seem to improve his mood.

"Agreed," Haruhi chips in just before Tamaki catches up to the three of them. But, she does have to concede, "I do still love him, though."

* * *

The midday sunlight filters in through the slats in the blinds. Haruhi comes to awareness with a big yawn, stretching her ribcage out with a long breath before she rolls over. She buries her nose in one of the twins' shoulders, letting her eyes fall closed. It's Sunday yet again, and she's inundated with a warm, comfortable feeling as she lies between Hikaru and Kaoru, the comforter tossed at the foot of the bed, their body heat making only one thin sheet necessary to stay warm. It's nice.

She thinks she should probably make this lazy lying in bed a ritual.

The shoulder she's pressed again starts to shift, and in a moment she finds herself face-to-face with a twin -- Kaoru, his hand rising to cup her cheek. "Hey," he says. "Good morning."

"Good morning," she says, leaning in to press her lips against his for the barest of seconds.

A grumble arises from the other side of the bed. The covers shift and then there's another body pressed against the back of hers, a nose buried in her hair. "Kaoru, don't hog Haruhi all to yourself."

"As if I could," Kaoru scoffs, wrapping an arm around her waist. Hikaru presses a gentle kiss to her neck and runs his fingers down the gentle curve of her side, sending a jolt shivering down her spine.

Kaoru leans in to kiss her again, more deeply, his tongue brushing against her lower lip.

She pulls away a centimeter, mumbling into Kaoru's mouth, "We probably shouldn't -- "

The door slams open very violently.  " _Wake up you sleepyhe_ \-- "

Haruhi peers over her shoulder with a vague sense of horror. What Tamaki, who had insisted on sleeping on her couch last night, had just walked in on was a Haruhi lying in bed with two decidedly shirtless twins. Judging by the look on his face, he had most likely come to the conclusion that the three of them were about to have sex -- which, while not entirely untrue, was definitely not something Haruhi had wanted Tamaki to think about ever.

"I -- " Tamaki stutters, the blush on his cheeks visibly spreading to the rest of his face and down his neck. "I'm sorry, I'll just -- "

He very, very gently closes the door behind him.

Kaoru snickers loudly. "Oh my god."

"Wow," Hikaru adds.

A second passes before Haruhi hears very loud screaming from just outside the door. "You can't do that! You can't do that to Haruhi!"

She sighs.

"Okay," Kaoru says. "You can go punch him in the face now."

**Author's Note:**

> there is not nearly enough hikaru/haruhi/kaoru out there. not enough. never enough.


End file.
